


New Year's Eve

by glittercracker



Series: No Place Like Home [4]
Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Feels, M/M, New Years, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 02:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittercracker/pseuds/glittercracker
Summary: It's been over a year since Nezumi returned to Shion. Time for some New Year's resolutions.





	New Year's Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@rat-tle-snake (NSEW)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40rat-tle-snake+%28NSEW%29).



> This was a last-minute secret santa gift for the No. 6 ss. I owe @rat-tle-snake (NSEW) for the original idea and hand-holding as I wrote my first-ever smut. But it also fits well right after Shion!!!On Ice, and as part of "No Place Like Home" 
> 
> So? Imagine this is how they celebrate their engagement! A few changes to make it work, you are not going crazy if you're reading this for the second time and it looks different!

It had been almost eighteen months since Nezumi had returned to No. 6. Six months after six long, silent, hollow years, during which Shion, and apparently Nezumi, had both had more than enough time to think about what they wanted. And what they wanted was each other. That had become more than clear after the first few, awkward weeks after Nezumi had recovered enough from his attack to move into Shion's apartment. When they danced around each other, overtly courteous and utterly miserable. It had been clear during the screaming matches that followed, and it had been clear when those finally dissolved into kisses. They’d shared a bed now for over a year, and it hadn’t been remotely chaste, as it had been years before. On the other hand, there had been lines that both of them were too afraid to cross.

But now it was New Year’s Eve, and they were engaged, and they'd promised each other, over a bottle of champagne that Nezumi took away from Shion after one glass, that this was a new beginning. Which meant no more barriers. Which meant that they quickly found themselves in bed, with several of those barriers obliterated.

"Nezumi?" Shion said, turning his head to look at him. The fireworks had long since gone dark outside the window, and the room’s only light came from an oil lamp trimmed low. Nezumi had bought them not long after he returned, not liking the harsh, sterile light of the halogen bulbs in Shion’s apartment. When they’d begun to share a bed again, they’d moved them into the bedroom.

Nezumi's black hair was fanned out across the sheet, like runnels of volcanic sand on a white beach – at the wrong end of the bed, Shion noticed now. They were both lying the wrong way around, and the pillows and covers were long gone, and he wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten there…but he wasn't cold. A sheen of sweat still slicked his skin, and Nezumi's, too. But he knew that he would start to feel the cold soon, and so he repeated, "Nezumi."

This time, Nezumi turned to him, his gray eyes almost black in the shadows thrown by the weak lamplight. "Yes, your Majesty?"

"Are…are you tired?"

One side of Nezumi's mouth quirked up as he reached for a tendril of Shion's hair to wind around his finger. "Why? Are you ready for another round?"

Shion wriggled closer to Nezumi, curling himself around the other man. "Maybe…but…"

Nezumi turned over on his side, pulled Shion against him, tipping his head back with one finger. He sucked at the hollow of Shion’s throat, and then ran his tongue up Shion's neck to the point of his chin – and stopped, when he heard the other man moan. "But?" he asked, his fingers snaking into Shion's hair…and then stopping, abruptly, when he saw Shion's dark violet eyes wide open, and fixed on his own.

"But this time, I want to do it," Shion said.

Nezumi's eyes blinked twice, slowly. "You want to do…what, exactly?"

"Take you."

Nezumi blinked at him. “But do you…?” he began, and then trailed off.

Shion laughed, his eyes curving into half-moons fringed in silver eyelashes that made Nezumi forget anything he’d been about to say. “Know what to do?” Shion finished for him. “Oh, I think so.”

“Okay, then,” Nezumi said, his voice low, almost lost in the whisper of wind around the eaves. “Put your money where your mouth is.” He pulled Shion close again and kissed him, holding nothing back.

For a few moments, Shion let himself dissolve into the kiss. But then he started to think about what he'd just asked. He had meant it – he really did want to do for Nezumi what Nezumi had done for him. Because it might not have been the most comfortable experience he'd had, but it had also been, by far, the best.

But…but Nezumi knew what he was doing. And Shion, despite his brave words, most definitely did not. But he’d asked, and Nezumi had agreed, and so, after another moment, he pulled away from Nezumi's lips and sat up, his knees on either side of him, their hips grinding together. Nezumi thrust up, and Shion gasped.

"Well?” Nezumi said. “You've got me where you want me, as I understand it. What is it now?"

"I..." Shion took a deep breath, and then, reluctantly, he climbed off of Nezumi. "I want to do something first."

"Something else? What else could possibly be going through that airhead right now? And by the way, it is fucking January, and I am fucking COLD, so please make it fast, whatever it is!"

But Shion didn't answer. Instead, he gave Nezumi an infuriating smile, and crawled back up to the head of the bed, kicking aside a couple of well-used towels on the way. He grabbed the table lamp, and angled it toward the foot of the bed, so that the warm light fell on Nezumi's sprawled body.

"What are you doing?" the other man cried, squinting his eyes. "Is this an interrogation?"

"No," Shion said, his eyes wide and deadly serious as they traveled over Nezumi's body. "I just want to look at you, first. I mean, before we do anything else."

Nezumi scowled. "You want to look at me? I've been back a year and a half, Shion."

"I know. But when we've touched each other, it's always been in the dark. And earlier, when we made love – " Nezumi let out a strangled sound, but Shion ignored him and continued, "I still couldn't see you. I mean, I could feel – "

"Enough!" Nezumi exploded, sitting up. "You have to shut up right now if you want anything more to happen tonight than me going to sleep on the couch!"

Shion looked at him for a moment with wide, infuriating eyes, and then he set the lamp back down, leaned in and kissed him. And any vitriol Nezumi had been harboring dissolved. When Shion slowly coaxed him back down, he let him. And then Shion pulled away again, though he kept on hand on Nezumi's chest, stroking him softly, and his wide, keen eyes fixed on Nezumi's silver ones.

“Trust me, Nezumi.”

*

Nezumi watched Shion for a moment longer, and then he couldn’t stand it any more. The intensity of his gaze. The…he made himself say it to himself, because after all, this was what he had committed to…the love that shone from his eyes.

Nezumi had been looked at all his life. He had been desired – first as a precious offshoot of a race that was an offshoot in itself, and then as many other things, most of which he would rather forget. But somehow, no desire had ever been as heady and precious, or as terrifying, as that with which Shion looked at him now.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he demanded, more harshly, he knew, than he should have. After all, he had submitted to this, he was going to *marry* this man…but then again, had he? In his experience, what Shion had asked of him would have been long since finished by now.

“How can I not look at you like this, Nezumi?” Shion asked dreamily. “Who wouldn’t?”

 _But who ever has?_ Nezumi wanted to ask him. And yet he couldn’t. He knew the answer himself: no one. No one had ever looked at him with such adoration. Desire, lust, fear, distrust – all of those and more. But true love? Never.

“Are you all right?" Shion asked, holding Nezumi by the shoulders and looking at him anxiously.

"Of course not!" Nezumi snapped, not meeting his eyes, and a blush rising on his cheeks. "You are the worst kind of tease!"

"Tease?" Shion asked, looking lost.

Nezumi sat up and shook his head. "Give me your hand."

Shion looked at him warily. “What? Why?”

“Just give it to me.”

Shion cocked his head, studying Nezumi in a way that Nezumi knew he was going to regret. “I’ll give it to you if you promise me something.”

Nezumi sighed. “What?”

“You’ll answer any question I ask you tonight. Honestly.”

Nezumi considered this, but in the end, the rising desire in him was too strong to resist. “Okay. Fine. Now, hand!”

Nezumi took the hand Shion offered him. He fumbled for the tube on the bedside table and squeezed lube onto Shion's fingers and guided his hand to his entrance, then lay back again. Shion’s fingers hovered there for a moment, and then one dipped inside.

Nezumi let out a shuddering breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and he reached for Shion almost involuntarily, taking his cock in his hand and moving closer to him. He heard Shion suck in a breath, and he opened his eyes. In the half-light, Shion's eyes were darkened with lust. He quirked a smile at Nezumi that was anything but innocent, and then slid in another finger, and at the same time, he bent down and started pressing open-mouthed kisses to Nezumi's chest, heat spreading from all of the places his lips touched.

Except that it wasn’t quite that. Yes, lust might be the better part of it, but at the same time there was a warmth that went far deeper than that. A sense of belonging, as if Shion were claiming him with those kisses, each and every one of them carefully and thoughtfully placed. Every one of them telling him that he was wanted for something more than what he looked like, more than what he could pretend to be, more than he could pretend not to be.

 _Stop it,_ he told himself, even as he heard himself whimper and felt his fingers clutching the sheets, as Shion’s unpracticed fingers somehow brushed all of the right places inside of him. _This is only sex. This is nothing new…_

Except…there was something about Shion's touch that was different than anything he'd felt before. Well of course it was different, he told himself. Shion didn't know what he was doing, and everyone who had been there before him most certainly did. Except. Except Shion didn't actually seem entirely clueless. In fact, if Nezumi hadn't known better, he would have said that Shion was touching him – barely touching him – in exactly the right places to drive him crazy.

"Do you know what I saw when I looked at you, in the light?" Shion asked, his voice low and soft as he leaned down again to place a soft, wet kiss in the middle of Nezumi's chest.

"Mmm...what?" Nezumi said, not quite registering what he was saying. But by the time he did, and realized his mistake, Shion was talking again.

"Something fragile."

"I – am not – " Nezumi began, but Shion shut him up with a kiss on the mouth, and a finger that stroked him with very clear aim. But even though it made him thrust up toward Shion in blinding need, the touch was gentle.

 _Gentle?_ Nezumi tried to push the word away as soon as he thought it. There was something about it he couldn't face head-on; something, if he was honest with himself, which he wanted to run from. Something he _had_ run from. But it was too late. It was there, just like Shion's tongue on him, his fingers in him, touching him as if he were something precious. And something deep inside him, something he'd long since bound up tightly and hidden away, began to unravel.

Shion circled a nipple with his tongue, and then he pulled back, looking down at Nezumi again with those half-lidded eyes, the bruised purple of storm clouds in the half-light. "I don't mean that you aren't strong, Nezumi," Shion said, widening his fingers slightly, and making Nezumi gasp. "Because you're probably the strongest person I know. But the way that you pretend that nothing touches you..." He curled his fingers, at the same time trapping the arm that Nezumi tried to pull over his face, pinning it over his head with surprising strength. "Well, we both know that's a lie, don't we?"

Nezumi let out a sound that was like that a cornered animal might make, and Shion dipped down to his throat, swirled his tongue in the hollow. "Shion – stop it – " Nezumi croaked out. Immediately, Shion pulled away. "No, that's not what I meant!"

"I know it's not," Shion said with a half-smile. "But you did say I could ask anything..."

"I didn't mean – "

"I don't care what you meant! You need to hear this."

Nezumi let out another incoherent sound, as he felt his neatly-shelved self-possession unravel still further.

“So,” Shion continued, as if they hadn’t bickered, moving his fingers again, “do we agree that it’s a lie?”

“I-it’s…a lie?” Nezumi stuttered.

"You see,” Shion said, a slight smile in his voice, “you don't need one more person to tell you you're beautiful. I mean, you are beautiful. So beautiful that sometimes, I can't quite look at you. It's like trying to look at the sun…but to me, that isn't because of your eyes, or your face, or this…" He ran the tip of his tongue from the dusting of black hair on Nezumi's lower belly to his neck, making Nezumi shudder and arch his back and thrust again. "It's because of something in you. Something you've buried so deep…and I know why you did it, even if I don't know the specifics…but the thing is, Nezumi, you really can't hide it. At least, not from me. You think I helped you when we were twelve because I felt sorry for you, or like it was some kind of duty. That isn't why I did it. It's because there was a light shining out of you, and when I saw it, when I…"

Shion paused, swallowing – swallowing tears? And Nezumi didn't want to see him cry, but he couldn't look away, as if Shion's words had mesmerized him. But Shion wasn't crying. His eyes swarmed with emotion when he met Nezumi's again, but not with tears.

"When I saw it,” he said, “I knew that I'd never want anything more in my life than to have that light shine on me. Every day. Always. And I would do anything for that…for you."

With that, Nezumi came undone. He wrenched his arm out of Shion's grasp and shoved his face to his chest. He tried to steady his breathing, but it came in hitches, his exhales shaky. Shion continued to kiss him, on his head, his face, his shoulders, as Nezumi’s tears slid down his chest.

All the while, Shion whispered to him, nonsense words, the soothing words he might say to a crying child, but it only unraveled Nezumi further. Shion wrapped his free arm around Nezumi, began to pull his fingers out of him, but Nezumi clutched at him, rasping, “No! Don't! Please, don't...I need you...I need you to..."

He stopped, his throat choked with tears again. Shion held still, waiting patiently for him to continue – just like Shion was always waiting patiently for him. He had waited for so long, and he ought to hate him for it – Nezumi certainly hated himself. But somehow, Shion didn't. Somehow, he was right here, looking at him with such openhearted love that Nezumi almost wondered if he were imagining all of this. If he was still somewhere far from No. 6, wandering, cold, looking for something that he knew very well he would never find, because he'd found it already, and left it behind on a hillside by a ruined city on a beautiful, bitter spring day.

"What do you need, Nezumi? You know that I'll give it to you if I can."

Oh, god. Why was it that what had seemed so simple when all of this began, suddenly seemed like the most terrifying thing in the world? Why couldn't he resort to sarcasm, remind Shion of his own request, tell him gruffly to get on with it?

But Shion seemed to understand. Of course he did, why would Nezumi have assumed any less? He kissed Nezumi once more, deeply, sweetly, and then he pulled away. Nezumi heard himself sob, but before his skin had even had time to cool, Shion was back, nudging Nezumi's legs apart with his knees. He hooked Nezumi's legs over his arms and then pushed inside of him. It wasn't rough, but it was purposeful, which was enough of a surprise that Nezumi laughed through his tears.

"Shit, Shion, you weren't kidding when you said you wanted to – "

And then Shion began to move, and Nezumi lost any vestige of coherence. Shion's eyes were closed, his lips parted, his scar dark on his pale skin in the shadows and seeming to move like the snake it resembled. The light fuzzed the edges of his hair, turning them golden, and Nezumi knew that if he lived another thousand years, he would never see anything more beautiful than this man who had asked to take him, and was somehow, instead, giving him something more than he had ever thought to want.

Shion was flushed, panting as he thrust deeper, and Nezumi could only clutch the sheets and beg whatever god might still be listening to him not to let him cry again. Not now. Not when nothing in his life had ever felt this perfect. "Shion…" he whispered. "Oh my god, Shion…"

Shion didn't answer, but he pried one of Nezumi's hands away from the sheet, and threaded their fingers together, at the same time taking Nezumi’s hard length in his free hand and sliding his fingers along it, passing his thumb over the weeping tip so that it jerked in his hand.

"Don't wait for me, Shion," he panted, although the heat and desperate, mindless wanting coiling in his guts were growing so strong that he half-regretted the words even as he was saying them.

Shion didn't reply, only moved his hand faster as his own breath came in shudders. Somehow – god, how? – Shion managed to move inside Nezumi perfectly in synch with his hand moving on him, and Nezumi knew that he would only last a few more seconds. Shion began to shake, gasping, crying out, clutching Nezumi's hand as he came. And in that moment, everything that had been building in Nezumi that night, and in the six months since he'd come back to Shion, and maybe in all of the ten years since their worlds had first collided, came together in a blinding mass, whiting out his mind in the kind of ecstasy he'd always thought only existed in books.

When he regained some kind of composure, he found that he was shaking, too; clutching Shion, who had collapsed on top of him, his face in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

For a while they just lay there, their breathing evening out, their heartbeats slowing but still strong, still beating against each other. At last, Shion began to stir, began to pull out of Nezumi. But Nezumi tightened his arms around him, crying, "No! No, please, just stay…"

"But Nezumi, there are things leaking everywhere, and we have to sleep in this bed – "

"Shut up, your Majesty," he said, but there was none of the sarcasm that usually colored the words. His tone was soft, almost dreamy. "I'll change the bed…I'll go out and get a new one if you want me to…and anyway, who said anything about sleeping?"

He could feel Shion's soft eyelashes brushing his neck as he blinked, thinking about this. And then, inevitably: "You mean you want to do this again? Right now? Because I might have to take a few minutes until – "

"Stop it! Just stop talking!" But Nezumi was laughing as he said it, and after a moment, Shion began to laugh with him. When they finally quieted again, Nezumi stroked a hand through Shion's hair. "Yes. I do want to do this again. And again, and again…but right now, just stay where you are. Just be with me."

Shion smiled, and buried his face again in Nezumi's neck. "Always," he said, and the silent night drifted down around them.


End file.
